Excellent thoughts, Phil. (Made me think of how In the Justice System we have the Victim Impact Statement taken into consideration prior to the sentencing of the offender).
I truly loved your post. Many don’t understand Han in Christian circles. It was God Who orchestrated Hagar and Ismael’s departure, yet He was called “the God Who sees” by Hagar. He addressed everyone in the story, giving words of comfort and direction. No one was left without His tenderness. How beautiful. We can learn from His heart, as always. Your blessing, dear brother: (simple yet profound) “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you.” Give your family my love. Janice Loschert
I was reading the troubling story of Hagar this morning! I think there are many ways to read this text, but I'm convinced that in all of them we are to side with Hagar. I was fascinated to learn from Rabbi Sacks of Jewish Spanish commentator Nahmanides during the 13th century re. Sarah and Hagar: “Our mother [Sarah] transgressed by this affliction, and Abraham did likewise by permitting her to do so. And so God heard her [Hagar’s] affliction and gave her a son who would be ‘a wild donkey of a man’, to afflict the seed of Abraham and Sarah with all kinds of affliction.” So grateful for the God who sees!
Thank you for this Phil! I was introduced, with significant interest, to the understanding of han a few years ago. Crucial. I work closely with a Korean friend and colleague who pastors our Korean ministry. What you've shared here very much resonates with conversations that we have had together. And, I've picked up a copy of Andrew Sung Park's book. Grace, Peace, and All Good be to you!
I was reminded of a conversation with a local pastor recently where I was describing how I’m trying to model the table that Jesus both set and sat at in my life and work. The pastor was open enough to the conversation, even about having LGBQT2A+ at the table, but then quickly pivoted to “when do we call them to repentance? It’s good and all to welcome them, but we can’t just accept them as they are without calling their sin out.”
In my own life, I see the trauma, the han, affecting decisions and posture often. And in that moment, I was furious that their focus was on the sin of these humans, amazing image bearers, rather than wanting to seek their thriving, flourishing, and restored identity as priorities. The western emphasis on “salvation through repentance from sin” becomes a painful tool, ignoring that this isn’t the wholeness of the Gospel and this emphasis on repentance as the sole or primary doorway to salvation not only oversimplifies the Gospel but risks deepening the wounds of those already harmed. It struck me, in that moment with the pastor, how often we, as the Church, prioritize the sinner’s journey to repentance over the victim’s journey to healing. We rush to ask, ‘When will they repent?’ rather than, ‘How can we tend to the han—the entrenched wounds—of those who have been harmed?’
This imbalance reflects what Park critiques: our theology is often structured around the guilt of the sinner while neglecting the trauma of the sinned-against. When we focus exclusively on calling out sin without addressing han, we perpetuate harm by centering the sinner at the expense of the victim’s healing. Worse, we risk misrepresenting the heart of Jesus.
Jesus consistently approached people as whole persons, not just as sinners in need of repentance. To the woman at the well, He offered dignity and living water before naming her relational brokenness. To Zacchaeus, He extended fellowship before Zacchaeus chose to make restitution. The order matters because love, relationship, and restoration are the foundation upon which repentance naturally grows. In centering the sinner’s guilt without tending to the victim’s han, we invert this order and distort the Gospel.
The Gospel is not merely a transactional process of sin, repentance, and forgiveness; it is a holistic vision of reconciliation, justice, and shalom. It calls us to both repentance and restoration, to confront sin while also binding up wounds. It invites us to set tables of belonging where flourishing is prioritized over fixing, and where people are invited into the fullness of life—not just away from their sin.
What would it mean for the Church to embody this balance? To see both sin and han as theological priorities, equally deserving of our attention and action? Perhaps it means that before we call someone to repentance, we should sit with them, hear their story, and seek to understand their wounds. Perhaps it means our starting point isn’t ‘What’s the sin?’ but ‘What’s the harm?’ And perhaps it means recognizing that the Kingdom of God is not built on guilt but on grace.
I left that conversation with the pastor frustrated, but also deeply convicted. If I am to model the table that Jesus set, it must be a table where han is seen and addressed, where wounds are bound up, and where repentance is not demanded but invited through the presence of love and grace. That is the Gospel I want to live out—a Gospel that takes sin seriously but takes flourishing and restoration just as seriously. Anything less is incomplete.
Excellent thoughts, Phil. (Made me think of how In the Justice System we have the Victim Impact Statement taken into consideration prior to the sentencing of the offender).
It would be interested to consider, when appropriate, something like this in a church "restoration" process. Appreciate you sharing this.
I truly loved your post. Many don’t understand Han in Christian circles. It was God Who orchestrated Hagar and Ismael’s departure, yet He was called “the God Who sees” by Hagar. He addressed everyone in the story, giving words of comfort and direction. No one was left without His tenderness. How beautiful. We can learn from His heart, as always. Your blessing, dear brother: (simple yet profound) “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you.” Give your family my love. Janice Loschert
I was reading the troubling story of Hagar this morning! I think there are many ways to read this text, but I'm convinced that in all of them we are to side with Hagar. I was fascinated to learn from Rabbi Sacks of Jewish Spanish commentator Nahmanides during the 13th century re. Sarah and Hagar: “Our mother [Sarah] transgressed by this affliction, and Abraham did likewise by permitting her to do so. And so God heard her [Hagar’s] affliction and gave her a son who would be ‘a wild donkey of a man’, to afflict the seed of Abraham and Sarah with all kinds of affliction.” So grateful for the God who sees!
Much love to you, dear friend.
Thank you for this Phil! I was introduced, with significant interest, to the understanding of han a few years ago. Crucial. I work closely with a Korean friend and colleague who pastors our Korean ministry. What you've shared here very much resonates with conversations that we have had together. And, I've picked up a copy of Andrew Sung Park's book. Grace, Peace, and All Good be to you!
Thank you, David. I think you'll really enjoy Sung Park's work!
Thanks for this Phil!
I was reminded of a conversation with a local pastor recently where I was describing how I’m trying to model the table that Jesus both set and sat at in my life and work. The pastor was open enough to the conversation, even about having LGBQT2A+ at the table, but then quickly pivoted to “when do we call them to repentance? It’s good and all to welcome them, but we can’t just accept them as they are without calling their sin out.”
In my own life, I see the trauma, the han, affecting decisions and posture often. And in that moment, I was furious that their focus was on the sin of these humans, amazing image bearers, rather than wanting to seek their thriving, flourishing, and restored identity as priorities. The western emphasis on “salvation through repentance from sin” becomes a painful tool, ignoring that this isn’t the wholeness of the Gospel and this emphasis on repentance as the sole or primary doorway to salvation not only oversimplifies the Gospel but risks deepening the wounds of those already harmed. It struck me, in that moment with the pastor, how often we, as the Church, prioritize the sinner’s journey to repentance over the victim’s journey to healing. We rush to ask, ‘When will they repent?’ rather than, ‘How can we tend to the han—the entrenched wounds—of those who have been harmed?’
This imbalance reflects what Park critiques: our theology is often structured around the guilt of the sinner while neglecting the trauma of the sinned-against. When we focus exclusively on calling out sin without addressing han, we perpetuate harm by centering the sinner at the expense of the victim’s healing. Worse, we risk misrepresenting the heart of Jesus.
Jesus consistently approached people as whole persons, not just as sinners in need of repentance. To the woman at the well, He offered dignity and living water before naming her relational brokenness. To Zacchaeus, He extended fellowship before Zacchaeus chose to make restitution. The order matters because love, relationship, and restoration are the foundation upon which repentance naturally grows. In centering the sinner’s guilt without tending to the victim’s han, we invert this order and distort the Gospel.
The Gospel is not merely a transactional process of sin, repentance, and forgiveness; it is a holistic vision of reconciliation, justice, and shalom. It calls us to both repentance and restoration, to confront sin while also binding up wounds. It invites us to set tables of belonging where flourishing is prioritized over fixing, and where people are invited into the fullness of life—not just away from their sin.
What would it mean for the Church to embody this balance? To see both sin and han as theological priorities, equally deserving of our attention and action? Perhaps it means that before we call someone to repentance, we should sit with them, hear their story, and seek to understand their wounds. Perhaps it means our starting point isn’t ‘What’s the sin?’ but ‘What’s the harm?’ And perhaps it means recognizing that the Kingdom of God is not built on guilt but on grace.
I left that conversation with the pastor frustrated, but also deeply convicted. If I am to model the table that Jesus set, it must be a table where han is seen and addressed, where wounds are bound up, and where repentance is not demanded but invited through the presence of love and grace. That is the Gospel I want to live out—a Gospel that takes sin seriously but takes flourishing and restoration just as seriously. Anything less is incomplete.